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FIVE MINUTES

By Bella Parker

Dear Reader,

Before you read your first chapter, this will change how you experience every word.

Most stories explain what characters think and feel. This one does not. Sometimes, you will experience different characters’ inner world as it actually moves through thoughts, emotions, awareness, and observations: fast, fragmented, layered, emotional, and real. This is Abstracting Realism™ in action.

It is different from anything you have read before. So, before Chapter 1, take sixty seconds and read this first. It will make everything click.

Use your imagination and co-write with me and create your own flavor of the story. Enjoy the “movie in your head.”

* * * * * * * * *

Note to Reader:

You’re about to experience a different kind of story.

Instead of explaining everything to you, this story will show you moments and feelings in fragments, the way life actually happens. Your mind will naturally fill in the spaces, making the story uniquely yours.

Think about how you experience a shocking moment: your thoughts come in pieces, not complete sentences. You might think “Car coming, move…” rather than “She saw a car approaching rapidly, so she moved quickly to safety.” This book captures the real, fragmented way our minds work during intense emotions.

Please note: The words in quotes are spoken. Without quotes, they are thoughts, emotions, awareness, etc.

Read a little slower than usual and let each moment sink in.

What does this mean to you:

• Trust      your instincts about what the characters are feeling.
• Don’t      worry if something seems unclear, your brain will figure it out.
• Enjoy      the experience of being inside the character’s head.

You might find yourself more emotionally connected to these characters than usual. That’s intentional. You’re not just reading about their lives, you’re experiencing moments with them.

Some readers say this feels like “being in a movie inside my head” or “like I’m actually there with them.” Others describe it as “more real than regular books.”

Just relax and let the story engage your imagination.Your mind knows how to do this. We’re just giving it permission to participate.

Welcome to your story.

* * * * * * * * *

Chapter 1: The Proposal – 1,785 words

Sofia Stone stood in the dim hallway outside her apartment with her eviction notice in her hand. No, not now. Now what do I do? I don’t need this. Damn it.

She pushed through the door into her run-down apartment that doubled as her studio. Paint-splattered canvases leaned against the wall. Rain started hitting the window above her old couch.

Sofia’s auburn red hair fell over her shoulders. She dropped her keys on the counter next to her other past-due notices. The kitchen clock kept ticking.

My life is pure chaos. Damn it! What am I going to do? What? “Everything is… just… out of control,” she muttered as she opened her refrigerator and grabbed her last wine cooler. Hmm… I did have one left. Thank goodness for…

Then knock, knock, knock.

“Damn it, what’s next?"

She opened the door. It was Ethan Kellerton. “What the hell?” Why is he here now? Why now? His blue eyes are still… stop it.

“Sofia.” God, she’s even more beautiful.

“Ethan, what the hell? How dare you!” Now he shows up. What does he want? I should slam the door in his face. I should… oh… I could just scream!

“I know you’re being evicted.” Stay calm. “Can I come in?”

“Why?” What’s he up to? He hasn’t changed much in five years.

“To discuss something important with you.” Sofia, for once in your life, don’t be so stubborn… it’s too dangerous for...

“You have five minutes.” She stepped back to let him in. Damn it. I shouldn’t have let him in.

“Thank you.” Ethan walked into her dingy space. My God, this place is awful. Got to get her out of here.

“So, why are you here? Your five minutes are ticking.” Crap. How does he know?

“I know you need help.” Breathe. You knew this was going to be rough… oh, she’s mad… her eyes are…

“I don’t need… you made your choice when you walked away five years ago.” Why come back now? He hasn’t changed much. Focus… stop it.

“I have an opportunity.” I walked away to protect you… but now I can…

“Really? An opportunity? From you? That’s rich.” What’s he trying to pull now? “What is it, Ethan? Another deal where I come out worse than before?” What the hell is he up to?

He didn’t argue. He just reached into his pocket, pulled out a black envelope and handed it to her.

“Here.” She’s still got a hot temper... but she's still... passionate.

Sofia opened it and read it twice: Exclusive Artist-in-Residence Contract.

“You want me to create art for you?” What the hell?

“Not for me, but for one of my private clients.” Come on Sofia… please calm down.

“Why me?” Oh… I could just… just… breathe.

“Because you need a fresh start, and I’m offering you more than just a studio.” Stay calm.

“What?” Oh, here it comes… this should be good… idiot.

Stay calm… here goes nothing. “I’ve already arranged for a fully equipped studio. All your materials, canvases, tools, and personal items will be transported. It will allow you to focus solely on your work. No distractions. No barriers.” God… she is mad. Beautiful… those green eyes… it’s been too long… if only… focus.

“And where exactly is this magical studio?” Who does he think he is? Come on… say it!

Ethan took a deep breath. “My place.” Oh, here it comes.

“You expect me to move in with you? Are you out of your mind?” He is crazy.

Here goes nothing. “It’s practical… you’ll have privacy and the resources you need.” Stay calm. Remember why you’re doing this. Don’t push.

“What’s in it for you?” What is he up to? Why now? She laughed. She couldn’t hold it down any longer. Breathe. She took two gulps of her wine cooler. I can’t believe this.

“Because some things don’t change, no matter how much time passes.” I’ve missed you, but you were in so much…

“Why now, Ethan? Why do you suddenly care after five years?” She noticed something… different. His eyes were… his voice… what the hell am I thinking... focus. “You’re five years too late.”

“Granted, but I’m here now… offering you a chance to… to focus on your art… and no eviction.” She is not happy, but I must get her out of here.

Sofia looked at the contract again. It’s everything I dream of and everything I hate about him… depending on him again is… is not what I want… but what should I do? “I’ll think about it.”

“Think what you want, but this deal is your best option. You have until 10 a.m. tomorrow to decide.” Come on, Sofia… you know it’s your only choice.

Sofia’s fingers clenched the contract tighter. “And if I say no?” What should I do? Where will I go? This is… is just… impossible… I… I just want to scream!

“Then you walk away. I won’t intervene again. I’ll respect your choice, Sofia.” Please agree… you’re in danger.

“I’ll have to think about it.” Damn you, Ethan. I hate you.

Ethan moved to leave. Stopped and looked at her. “By the way, the movers are scheduled. If you decide not to, I’ll cancel them.” Come on Sofia… don’t be stubborn… just agree. He opened the door and walked out into the dim hallway. She’s still so stubborn… but I still...

She shut the door behind him harder than needed. The room still held the smell of his cologne.

She stood there rubbing her fingers. Her hands were trembling. Her breathing shallow. His words pushing her. Damn it, what should I do?

She looked at the Eviction notice, then at the contract again. Two options. No escape. “Damn you,” she muttered. She finished her wine cooler.

Then knock, knock, knock.

Who could that be? Too soon for him to return. She walked to the door, paused, opened the door, just a crack, chain still hooked.

Sofia looked out through her chained door. A man stood there, unfamiliar, his face obscured by the brim of a baseball cap. He slipped an envelope through the gap, his voice low. “For you. Courtesy of Mr. Kellerton.” The man turned and quickly walked away.

“Hey, wait!” He was gone. What the hell? Ethan, what game are you playing now? She closed the door and opened the envelope.

Inside was a simple handwritten note in Ethan’s unmistakable handwriting: 'You’re not as alone as you think. The choice is yours, but don’t look back, look forward.'

Ethan, are you crazy? Unbelievable. She read it again. What am I going to do? She sat down on her worn old couch. I hate you. You’re… you are…

Downstairs, Ethan stepped into the back seat of his black limousine. Then the driver’s door opened, and his chauffeur got in and took off his cap.

“Mr. Kellerton, it’s delivered.” That was crazy, but nothing new when it comes to him. What’s next?

“Thank you, Arthur.” Well… she’s probably cursing my name. I can feel it.

“Where to, Mr. Kellerton?” I just want to go back to the estate and rest.

“Home.” She’s even more beautiful than before. She’s mad as hell… I would be too. I’ve got to get her out of that dump. This time, I won’t let her down. Five years… and it’s still a mess.

Upstairs, Sofia looked down on the street below and watched Ethan’s limousine leave. She turned and sat down on her couch. Damn you, Ethan. She picked up her pillow from the couch and screamed into the pillow and then threw the pillow down on the couch and stared at a blank canvas.

She got up, grabbed the canvas and put it on the easel, then glanced at her unfinished canvases, the eviction notice, the contract, past due bills… breathe… breathe. Oh, hell no! You are going to pay Ethan Kellerton. You just think you know me.

She grabbed a brush and painted bold thick strokes across the canvas. Black and crimson clashed. I hate you… you… damn you.

Each stroke was a scream she couldn’t voice. The crimson, grays, and black colors clashed. It was everything she didn’t want to admit, so she brushed her anger and desperation onto the canvas.

The painting didn’t have a name. It was bold, deliberate raw strokes landing on the canvas. Damn you, Ethan! I know you have something to do with me being in this situation. Did you cause me to lose my three gallery shows? I would bet a million dollars that you did. I know you did… you jerk.

One hour later, her tears finally stopped. She took a shower and lay on her bed. I’m done crying. I must sleep at least a little… but what am I going to do?

The sun was bright the next morning when she woke. It was 9:00 a.m., and it was time to get up. She dressed and returned to her living room. The smell of drying paint was strong. She sat on her couch and stared at her painting from the night before remembering the conversation with Ethan.

She got up from the couch and walked back to her unfinished canvas. Her fingers trembled as she picked up the brush again, dabbed it in crimson and black, and with each erratic stroke she muttered, “What should I do? I must finish this now.”

She glanced at her cell. “Oh crap! It’s five minutes until 10:00 a.m., so what am I going to do?”

Then at 9:56 a.m. her cell buzzed. She stared at the one-word text: Accept?

“Damn it! Damn you, Ethan! Damn it anyway!”

She hesitated. Her finger stopped moving over her phone. Oh hell, just do it. You have no other choice. She texted back: I accept. Packers can come in 2 hours. I hate you. She pressed send. I have no choice… and you made sure I didn’t. You bastard! Mark my words… by the time I’m done with you… you will wish you had never knocked on my door. I swear!”

Her phone buzzed again. She looked: Thank you, packers arrive in 1 hour.

“Damn you, Ethan! I hate you!” She wasn’t sure what hurt more… accepting the deal or the sting of knowing just how much power she had lost. She closed her eyes. There was no choice left. It was done. Breathe in, breathe out.

She looked at the finished canvas in front of her. She named it HATE.

Now, there was nothing but the clock ticking. Her future had changed. Ethan Kellerton, you will pay for this! What the hell have I gotten myself into? Oh, my God, here I go again... back to...